by Stephen Makk
“Sir.”
“They won’t expect it in here Larry. Periscope depth.” The boat rose several feet. He set the controls for a 360 scan. The scope rose above the surface, quickly scanned 360, and retracted.
He looked at the monitor screen. The two Destroyers were side on to the southwest wall and the Frigate had docked at the northwest corner of the harbour. He did a double take; they were just 70 feet from the southeast harbour wall. It had been close, too damn close.
It was time to carefully, quietly make their way out into the open sea.
Innes and Alves had heard the Chinese ships entering the harbour. Down where they were it had been a cacophony of prop throbbing and threshing. The boat wouldn’t wait through that. They knew it would be the backup Exfil now. They were heading for the far side of the deep channel, bearing 140 at 130 feet depth. It was a smothering blackness down there. Presently they came to the far wall and started their ascent. After reaching the shallows, they pressed on out of the lagoon. The reef fell away and they followed the bearing out into free water. They both knew that the boat would have to get between the reef and them to signal safely away from it.
They reached where they thought was a safe distance by counting fin strokes. Alves surfaced for a look and came back down. He gave Innes the OK sign. They both used torches at 18 feet; they should be fine down here. It was now a wait for the boat. After a time Alves tapped Innes and pointed. A tail flicked out in the blackness. Then another. Innes saw a head with a jaw full of teeth. Thresher sharks. The two of them formed a back to back stockade. The sharks circled for some minutes before one of them made a close approach; Innes hit it as hard as he could on its sensitive nose area. The shark kicked away with its tail and disappeared.
Eventually, the Threshers vanished; why? Innes and Alves surfaced.
“I think they’ve gone,” said Alves.
“Yeah, it didn’t like the punch it got.” They looked towards the island; a few lights were visible. After two minutes there it was, a flash from a periscope. The two of them headed for it, dived and swam into the sail. It must have been the boat’s prop disturbing the sharks. Innes removed his mouthpiece and kissed the lip of the sail. They both entered the hatch and closed it behind them.
The two divers stood in the main companionway; Nathan approached them.
“It’s good sir. In place. We have Fiery Cross bugged. That’s the last one.” Relief washed over him.
Nathan patted each man on the shoulder. “Well done guys. Remember, we do have a bug left.”
Innes frowned.
“Ask Kaminski,” said Nathan smirking, “she’s had an idea”.
He returned to the control room.
“Kaminski, get me a lazy zip zag course up toward the Paracel Islands. Lieutenant Commander Lemineux, make this message to COMSUBPAC.”
“Aye sir.”
PRIORITY RED
R 271365Z SEP 86 ZY10
STONEWALL JACKSON
PACFLT// ID S072RQ81//
TO COMSUBPAC PEARL HARBOR HAWAII//N1//
NAVAL OPS/02
MSGID/STONEWALL JACKSON 479/ ACTUAL//
MSG BEGINS://
OPERATIONS CLIPPER, SKIRMISH AND TEA LEAVES COMPLETE. BUG LOCATIONS TO FOLLOW. PATROLING TO PARACELS. SEEKING DURESS.
MSG END//
USS Stonewall Jackson headed first toward Southwest Cay.
“Benson get your big ears on, I think the PLAN’s coming down to play.”
Hours later, the island was still several miles away.
“Sir, I’m picking up a contact to the north. I’d say two warships, range 20 miles. Refining.”
“Good work, keep me posted.”
He waited long minutes, then looked over to the ponytailed honey working on her chart.
Nathan felt drawn to her so he walked over. “Hi.”
“Hi, sir.”
“Where do you have us going next?”
“That’s up to you sir.”
“Yeah, but where would you go?” She gave him a mischievous smouldering smile and quickly wiped it off her face.
“I’d stay down here Sir. The PLAN will come to us we don’t need to seek them out.”
“What about your idea up north? The spare bug op. What do you want to call it, anyway?”
She thought for a while. “I think Operation Joshua would be right. He was one of the top spies sent into Canaan during the exodus.”
Nathan smiled. “Ok, Operation Joshua it is.”
Benson shifted in his seat and called out from his sonar console.
“Sir, I have info on the two northern contacts. They’re two Type 052C Destroyers, heading just to our west. Range nine miles.”
“Good Benson, well done. Come to three three zero. Speed twelve knots.”
“Sir I picked them up as one of them used an SJD-9 sonar to make an active ping.”
“How good is that sonar, Benson?”
“Not bad sir, it’s a development of a French design, hull mounted.”
“Active ping, is it? It’s playing safe, or more likely it’s a clean-up operation.”
“Clean up sir?”
“Yeah, flush out the opposition.” I wonder what else they have coming down here?
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER Lemineux, make this message to COMSUBPAC.”
“Aye sir.”
PRIORITY RED
R 271366Z SEP 86 ZY10
STONEWALL JACKSON
PACFLT// ID S072RQ81//
TO COMSUBPAC PEARL HARBOR HAWAII//N1//
NAVAL OPS/02
MSGID/STONEWALL JACKSON 479/ ACTUAL//
MSG BEGINS://
REQUEST REPORT ON PLANAF MARITIME DEPLOYMENTS AND OPERATIONS IN THE AREA.
MSG END//
Nathan walked over to his XO.
“Larry, they must have air assets on the way. The People’s Liberation Army Navy Air Force won’t be sitting on their asses. They’ll have deployments; heck they have several local runways to use. I’ve asked for information on their deployments down to this area.
In the meantime, we have two Luyang II Destroyers to cope with.”
Nathan thought through his tactics. Come on Captain Franks, what would USS NYC have done? He weighed up the options. Use stealth, but most of all, use what you have at hand. That’s it!
“Come to 300, periscope depth, speed 18 knots. COB?”
“Yes sir?”
“Go back aft and get a bilge monkey to rap a hammer on some pipe or whatever. Make it sound like he’s making repairs. Get one to make some noise, they’ll like that.”
The COB gave him a puzzled look. “Yes Sir.”
The XO raised his palms. “What...?”
Nathan smiled. “We’re going to hang our asses out on the line.”
Several minutes later they were heading in the approximate direction of the Chinese warships. Back aft, the sounds of a hammer knocking the hell out of something could be heard. It was what you didn’t do; a submarine should be silent, stealthy and unseen.
“Sonar. The Luyang’s are turning, one looks to be heading our way.”
Nathan smiled.
A few minutes later Benson called out again.
“The other one’s heading off to the northeast, sir. I think it’s heading around the north side of the Cay.”
“Ok. COB, go tell that guy to stop his banging. Down bubble 15, make your depth 100, speed eight knots. Come to one eight zero.”
Two of the PLAN’s best Destroyers were aware of him and on the hunt. Nathan knew they’d be hungry for revenge. He hoped to hell he knew what he was doing.
CIA HEADQUARTERS. LANGLEY. Virginia.
PAUL WICKS SAT AT HIS desk; he was reading material on Chinese intel activities in South East Asia. The section director appeared.
“Paul. Come with me, we need to make a call.”
He followed him to a secure conference room. The director punched in a code on the large meeting phone. It was on speaker.
“We’re going to call the Ch
ief of Naval staff, Admiral Kamov. Just tell him what you know, don’t disclose anything about our sources or activities. Any doubt, just shrug and nod to me. Ok?”
“Yes sir.”
The phone rang.
“Kamov.”
“Admiral, CIA Asia section Director. I have Jackpot with me. I understand you’d like a word.”
“Yeah, this Chinese Ministry of State Security document I’ve got from you, it’s a bit drastic on their part. Jackpot, this contact you’ve got; are you close to him?”
Paul thought, it’s not a man and I couldn’t get much closer.
“Yes sir.”
“So you’re confident?”
“Yes sir.”
“I wanted to ask you because I want you to know what you’ll be putting in place. Some of my people could be in grave danger acting on the causes of this situation. They’re depending on this information.”
“Sir, I believe it’s good information. It’s not first hand, of course.”
“Ok, son. It’s going to get awful hot in the South China Sea. The shit’s not going to hit the fan. It’s going to blow the living fuck out of it.”
The connection was cut.
“You did ok,” said the director. He sighed. “I hope we’re right Wicks, we have our dicks out on the chopping block.”
Paul returned to his desk. I’ve done the best I know how. I hope it’s good enough.
THE SOUTH CHINA SEA.
“SONAR, GIVE ME A SITREP,” asked Nathan.
“The Luyang is nine miles to the northwest, heading east, no sonar activity. No evidence so far that it’s operating a Helix.”
That was odd, he knew. It was classic tactics to scout out the area ahead with a Helix helicopter, sonobuoys, dipping sonar, the lot.
“Why no Helix, XO?”
Larry shrugged. “It may be that it’s unserviceable.”
Nathan shook his head. “I don’t get that lucky.”
“Shit happens to them too, sir.” He knew that was true; how many times had he been on the shitty end of it? He knew they where almost halfway along the south end of the Cay now.
“Planesman come about, head north.” The boat leaned to port as it turned; the crew leaned to the right to keep their balance. Seatbelts kept the seated officers at their consoles.
“Ok Weaps, give me an update from the dummies guide.”
“Sir, she’ll have the usual launchers for Yu-7 torpedoes. But probably no ASROC equivalent.
Yu-7, range nine miles, forty-three knots. If the Helix is down, they’re her teeth.”
“Ok, stay on our heading; let’s keep a bit of room though. Weaps, get a big fish ready.”
The Weapons Officer’s hands ran over the console. “Mk 48 CBASS ready in tube one. Firing solution laid in, designated target Tango one, sir.”
“Flood tube one.”
“Aye sir. Tube one flooded. Fish is ready in all respects.”
For several minutes he cruised slowly north as the Destroyer followed the line of the Cay and headed northeast.
“Sir. We have an active ping from Tango one. He’ll be getting a good return from that.”
“Let me know if we get a course change from him. Planesman, come to eight five degrees.”
“Active ping. Course change to our bearing, speed 27 knots.”
“Come to one five degrees, speed 20 knots.” The Destroyer would gain on them, there was no getting away from that.
“Benson. Range to Tango one?”
“Ten point seven miles and closing.”
He had to take action soon, there wasn’t much time left.
“Sir, surface impact. It’s ASROC. Torpedo prop sounds, sinking, searching.” So much for the Destroyer not having an ASROC equivalent. They’d launched a rocket propelled torpedo. It had descended on a parachute, detached it and then entered the sea above; it was now searching for them.
“Enemy fish has found us and gone active, sir. Range three miles.”
“Ready countermeasures. Stream the lure fish.”
“Closing sir. Now one point eight miles.”
The lure was towed behind the boat; the TB29/A1 was a product of the high priests of underwater deception, L-3 Chesapeake Sciences Corp.
“Weaps, dance the lure.”
In this mode, the lure would attempt to confuse the torpedo's sonar by emitting simulated submarine noise, such as propeller and engine noise, which was more attractive than the boat to the torpedo's sensors.
“The lure’s dancing sir.”
“Call out the range, Sonar.”
“One point two miles....point eight miles....point three miles....Three hundred yards.” Nathan counted down.
“Deploy countermeasures port side. Blow one and two forward. Come hard to starboard.”
The boat’s bow rose alarmingly and it came hard to the right. The crew hung on for life.
The Chinese homing torpedo streaked in fast, with one thing on its mind. Death.
The Jackson’s death.
Chapter 10
THERE WAS A LOUD DEEP impact to the left and the boat shifted hard to the right. Explosive gas boiled and bubbled into the sea. The crew hung on.
“Shit.”
“Damage control.” The boat wallowed in the turbulence.
“Weaps. Open outer doors tube one,” said Nathan, “firing solution status?”
“Tube one ready in all respects. We are locked and loaded, sir.”
“On my mark. Launch tube one.”
“Launch. Fish away and hungry.” The Mk 48 sped off north for its quarry.
“Weaps, program the fish for a belly shot.”
“Ready Mk 48.”
“Tube two ready sir.”
“Flood tube two.” The first could miss, a backup was a wise move.
“Aye sir.”
“Fish range one point five miles,” said Weaps. “Active, acquired Tango one. Cutting wire. Running in, running in. The fish is greedy now. Closing, closing.” Benson stood and raised his forearms.
“Goddam it. Yes. Hot datum Tango one.”
Nathan grinned. “Good shooting Weaps.”
Now it was time to take on the second Destroyer.
“Come to four zero degrees, speed 12 knots.” After cruising to the east for several minutes, Nathan called a stop.
“Rig trim to ascend fore and aft. Up bubble 15. I want periscope depth. Come to zero degrees.”
“Aren’t we better out east sir?” suggested the XO. “That way we can surprise them. Get a fish in as soon as they show.”
Nathan looked at his XO with a knowing smirk. “No. I’m going to surprise them alright. Weaps. What’s our war shot?”
“Sir, tubes two to four Mk 48. Tube one is being loaded with a Mk48 right now. Tubes five and six Harpoon.”
“Select tube five, Harpoon. Firing solution. Program for autonomous search.”
“Sir?” asked the XO.
“We’re going to launch the missile over the Cay. The Harpoon will search for the target with its on-board radar. The PLAN Destroyer won’t have a chance. The missile will appear over the Cay and be on them in a minute. They use the type 730 Close-In Weapon System. It’ll throw a wall of lead out, but it needs time to acquire its target. I won’t give it that time.”
He turned to the alluring siren at the navigation station. “Kaminski, best estimate to the target’s position?”
She worked at the computer. “Twenty degrees Sir.”
“Come to 22 degrees.” Nathan left a little allowance for a delay. “Weaps. Flood tube five, open outer doors. Let the bird fly.”
“Tube five flooded, doors open. Launch tube five.” The canister was ejected and rose to the surface. The cap blew off, the missile ignited and shot off north over the Cay.
“Sonar. Get your big ears on. Report.”
Benson listened.
“Noise, sir. Sudden, indistinct. There could be gas escaping. Definite bubbles and gas.” A minute went by. “Whoa, big one. A blast sir, soun
ds like a secondary. I think we have a Hot Datum.”
USS Stonewall Jackson sailed around the Cay. Nathan raised the periscope; there, about a mile away, were a few life rafts. He shook his head, there were just four of them.
“It’s gone Larry.” He lowered his head. “What did the Duke of Wellington say after the victory at Waterloo? Nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won.”
NATHAN DECIDED TO GET some sleep; he retired to his cabin.
Some hours later in the control room, Nikki stood.
“I’m going for a coffee sir. Would you like one?”
“Yeah,” said the XO. “Get one for the Skipper too, wake him, he’s had a few hours now.”
Nathan startled awake with her warm lips on his and her ponytail softly tickling his neck.
“Nikki, what are...?”
“Here’s your coffee sir, the XO told me to wake you with it. I went one better.” She smiled and left the cabin.
Nathan walked into the control room.
Lieutenant Commander Lemineux approached him.
“Here Sir, it came in a few minutes ago.”
PRIORITY RED
R 2314649Z OCT 89 ZY011
COMSUBPAC PEARL HARBOR HAWAII//N1//
TO STONEWALL JACKSON
PACFLT// ID S072RQ81//
NAVAL OPS/02
MSGID/PACOPS 6722/COMSUBPAC ACTUAL//
MSG BEGINS://
PLANAF FORCES ARE DEPLOYING SOUTH. PATROLS OF SHNAANXI Y-8, FLYING THE AREA. Y-8Q DEPLOYED SOUTH. SUSPECTED SITES ARE, SUBI, FIERY CROSS, MISCHIEF.
MSG END//
He handed the communication to Weaps.
“Give me the rundown on the Y-8Q?”
He studied the dummies guide. “Ok, Sir. Shaanxi Y-8. It’s their maritime patrol aircraft. A medium sized four-engine turboprop, based on the Soviet AN 12. Its range is 3,400 miles. The Y-8Q is an ASW version with search radar, forward looking infra-red, a tail boom with a Magnetic Anomaly Detector and an internal bomb bay. It’s almost certain to carry the Yu-7 air dropped torpedo, range nine miles, 43 knots. It’s one to respect, sir.”
“We’ll do that. Kaminski, put us about 20 miles south of Subi Reef.”